WastelandRogue (20 page)

Rye lifted her hand and looked at her fingers. “I can do
that?”

“I don’t know. If I were to guess, I’d say that was an
ability of purebreds.” He plucked the key from her hand. “This is a human’s
protection against
lamians
. I didn’t think anything about this key until
I heard the rumors about Wickstrom.”

“Good thing I didn’t keep your coat on when I fell into that
sinkhole back near Iantha’s place.”

“You’re more important than this.” He stroked her cheek with
his knuckles. “A key is the easy way in. I would have figured out another way
without it.”

She smiled, loving him for the way he always eased her
concerns. “Easier has benefits.”

“Very true.”

The sound of footsteps coming their way instinctively moved
her closer to Sevrin. “We’re not alone anymore.” she whispered.

“I see them.” He ran his hand down her arm and grabbed her
wrist. He pressed the key into her palm. “Hold on to this for me.”

She pushed her hand into her pants pocket, tucking the key
in the bottom as she turned around.

Three men walked at a cautiously slow pace. When the way
between the mounds of debris widened, they spread out, showing instantly they
were a threat. The shorter one in the center motioned to the other two, proving
he was the leader.

“Don’t recognize you as being from around here,” the man
said. “What’s your business?”

“Just a visit to my brother,” Sevrin answered.

“Who might he be?” the man asked.

“No one you’d know. He works for the Wickstrom Group. Don’t
know where, just that I know they have a facility in Old Louis Ruins. I was
only here once, a long time ago, so I don’t recall which door. You wouldn’t
happen to know where it is, would you?”

The man jerked his head to the right. “About a hundred
paces. But no one goes in there without an invite. You have permission?”

“I’m afraid not.”

Rye kept a watchful eye on the movements of the other two.
They reminded her of Milt and Wirdle, one skinny, one fat, but scruffy-haired
and dirty-looking and lacking intelligence in their gaze.

They shuffled from one foot to the other, acting as if they
were bored or antsy about having to wait for the conversation to end. She
noticed their movements edged them forward as if to surround her and Sevrin.

The man closer to her had an intense stare. His size wasn’t
as intimidating as the bullet launcher he held cradled in his arms. She hadn’t
seen one like it before. Would it carry the allium-infused bullets? Sevrin had
a small, short-barreled gun in a holster at the waistband of his pants, but
could he draw it out quickly?

“Do we have your permission to proceed?” Sevrin asked.

A wide grin showed a mouth full of decayed teeth on the man
in charge. “My permission?” He laughed. “I like that. No one ever thinks to
ask. All I ever get is people telling me what they’re gonna do and then trying
to do it.”

“I don’t want to show you any disrespect. You seem to be the
one with the authority to grant my request,” Sevrin said calmly.

The man nodded his head and lowered his bullet launcher,
apparently liking what Sevrin said. “What if I were to say no? What then?”

“Could be I’d just leave.” Sevrin whipped out his
short-barreled gun in a flash, making the other man raise his weapon. “Or it
could be I don’t and we both behave badly enough that someone ends up dead.”

Rye found herself impressed by Sevrin’s confidence.

She watched the man’s silent debate. He had the bigger gun.
Several shots would severely cripple Sevrin’s mobility. His slow regeneration
would give the man ample time to finish him off. Worried about the outcome, she
opened her mouth and rubbed one of her fangs. The two flanking their leader
backed up.

“She’s
lamian
,” the one man commented.

Sevrin nodded and said low as if she wasn’t going to hear
him, “And she’s a mite bit tired and cranky too. She bit the heads off two men
last night because they wanted a little fun with her. They didn’t have a
fighting chance with the way she can heal almost instantly from any attack.”

“I’ll let you pass this time, no charge,” the leader said.
“But if you come back through here, you’ll have to pay a tariff. Now go on with
ya, before someone notices I ain’t collecting my due.”

“Your kindness will be remembered…what’s your name?”

“Gondall.”

“That’s all of it?”

“It’s enough.”

Rye moved closer to Sevrin as he tucked his gun back in the
holster. She thought he should have kept it handy but couldn’t say so in front
of Gondall.

“I’m Sevrin Renault and this is Mariah Sanborn.” He took her
arm and had her move ahead of him.

A strange sensation of sentimentality formed a lump in her
throat hearing her full name, her mother’s name. She didn’t think she’d ever
want to be called Mariah. Sevrin saying it so casually made her want to hear it
again.

“Ah, Gondall, might I ask one more thing?” Sevrin hesitated,
keeping ahold of her arm.

“What?” Gondall asked in an aggravated tone, as if they were
pushing him past his limit of cordiality.

“We’ve heard rumors about the Wickstrom Group wanting
lamians
captured and brought to them,” Sevrin started. “Do you know anything about
that?”

“I may have. Why do you ask? I thought your brother works
for Wickstrom?”

“I haven’t seen him in a long time. That’s why I’m here, to
check up on him. And I was concerned for my female friend here.”

“If you’re so concerned, maybe you’d like to leave her with
us?” He flashed another one of his wide grins.

“I already told you, she doesn’t play well with strangers.
Now about the
lamians
?”

“Yeah, we heard the same. Haven’t seen anything. Although we
do have a deal with the marauders. They pay a hefty tariff for us to let them
come and go without bother from us, so it’s possible they may have
lamians
with them.”

“How do you know they’re marauders?”

“That group, small or large, is always fronted by a man
called Orland. My men recognize him and keep their distance.”

“So they could be leading
lamians
right to the
Wickstrom Group?”

“Could be.” Gondall and his men began walking away and then
Gondall looked back. “Remember what I said, Renault. This is the only free
entry you get.”

“Let’s hope there’s a free exit as well,” Sevrin muttered
behind her.

“You don’t think there will be?” Rye slowed and let him pass
her.

“He says he has a profitable deal with the marauders. What’s
to keep him from turning us over to them?”

She hadn’t thought of that. “Great, as if we haven’t had
enough trouble.”

No sooner had she said it than a man sprang out from inside
a doorway and grabbed Sevrin. Rye ran up and locked an arm around the man’s
neck, pulling him back. Sevrin lost his balance and fell to the ground.

She tried to thrust the man away but he had hold of her arm
and pulled her around to face him.

“A fanger bitch,” he hissed, spittle hitting her in the eye.

“I am sure getting tired of men calling me that,” she
growled.

Lifting her arm, she bit into the back of his hand clapped
on her wrist. He immediately shrieked and released.

Through the spreading haze of red in her eyes, she saw
Sevrin get back on his feet as the man ran away.

“One day they’ll learn that isn’t a respectful phrase,”
Sevrin said, coming toward her.

Rye lifted the flask strap over her head and twisted open
the top. “Men like him are the dregs of the planet and they’re too stupid to
learn anything, even if it means saving their lives. Hamner was proof of that.”

She took a drink from the flask, rinsed her mouth of any
blood transference and spit. The powdery dust on the ground puffed up and
settled back around the wet spot. She watched it dry quickly.

“You’re right, of course. Doesn’t look good for the future
of our society.”

“Just the human part, Sevrin. That’s why
lamians
exist today. Without worldwide communication, neither humans nor
lamians
have the resources to bring some semblance of order back to our dying
civilization. Time and time again, our ancestors have failed in their attempts
to bring stability. There is no reason to think they won’t fall short again,
especially if scientists are working against the evolutionary changes.”

“Such a grim outlook.” He frowned and touched her cheek,
brushing his fingers against it to remove blood specks, she imagined. “Your
eyes are almost clear.”

“It was just a taste of blood, not enough to hinder my sight
long.” She blinked several times. “There, how’s that?”

He ran his finger down her nose. “As stunning as a clear
blue sky.”

Elated by his affection, she smiled.

“That’s better.” He touched her lips. “You have a wonderful
smile. It makes those gorgeous blue eyes twinkle brighter.”

“Let’s find that door.” She grabbed his hand and dragged him
along. “Gondall said about a hundred paces, right?”

“Yeah.” He took the lead.

She watched him survey the area and glance at doors. Some
entrances sat crooked and partly buried in the ground, while others loomed high
above their heads.

“Here, I think that’s the door.” Sevrin hopped up onto a
pile of junk and hoisted himself to a half-railed balcony. “Give me your hand.”

“I can do it myself.” She mimicked his moves and joined him
on the ledge. Getting to her feet, she gripped the railing for support and it
gave way.

“Got you.” Sevrin grabbed her upper arm and pulled her to a
steady stance. He let go and ran his hand over the markings on the door,
examining the design. “Yes, this is the right one.”

He pressed the lever and tried to open it. The steel slab
creaked as it moved.

“Are you sure this is it?” She helped to push.

“I put my initials on it.” He pointed.

She touched the scratched letters S.R. She seldom saw anyone
write. Her parents were intelligent, yet reading and writing had never been a
high priority for her and her sister to learn. Her father had too much to do to
keep them safe.

“Do you know just your letters or can you read too?” she
asked, curious about his level of schooling.

“I can read and write and do math. Scientist father and
mother, remember?”

“Right.” She didn’t tell him that her mother was a scientist
too and that she didn’t live long enough to get the chance to teach her and
Shay what she knew before she died.

“And you?” he asked, straining to open the door farther than
just slightly ajar.

Not wanting to talk about her shortfalls, she assisted him,
throwing herself at the scarred steel. The hinges gave way a bit more.

“It’s obvious no one has used this in a long while,” she
said, squeezing through the narrow space.

The door groaned as Sevrin forced himself through the
opening also. His larger build required effort and more shifting of the dented
steel. She cringed as the door made another resounding protest at being moved.

Darkness engulfed them.

Rye shivered against the cool draft of air. “What a
difference in temperature,” she commented while rubbing her arms, hoping it was
the change in atmosphere and not the dismal surroundings that gave her chills.

Sevrin’s hand banded her upper arm, his grip tightened,
signaling for stillness. He put his finger to his lips, motioning for her to
keep silent. She nodded, already knowing the less noise they made, the better.

When he let go, she proceeded through the cluttered room.
Metal furniture lay overturned, cabinets hung half-suspended and crumbled
chunks of wall sat heaped on everything else.

Sevrin lagged behind, picking through debris as if he looked
for something. She stopped at a doorway and waited. Her sixth sense wasn’t as
honed as a full-blooded
lamian
’s, yet she’d never ignore gut feelings. A
looming presence waited ahead.

Sevrin leaned against her back, whispering low in her ear.
“What is it?”

“I was just waiting for you,” she said, having nothing
definitive to report. An eerie feeling they were being watched wasn’t a firm
fact.

“Looks as if we need to get through here.” He touched a door
and fingered the slit in the handle. “You have that key?”

She shoved her hand into her pocket and pulled out the piece
of metal. While he worked it into the doorknob, she touched the lettering on
the door.

“Authorized Personnel Only,” Sevrin said. “Nothing important
we need to know.”

“I can read,” she lied.

“Doesn’t matter, I’m pretty sure whatever is written on
doors, walls and signs in this place is outdated and nothing either of us need
concern ourselves with.”

“Except what’s outdated to us may not be to those using this
place. Take that key, for example. Why that instead of scanners?”

“Remember, purebred
lamians
don’t have fingerprints
like humans do. They can regenerate theirs to match ones they touch. Same goes
for their eyes.” He handed her the key.

“So if I was human and I really wanted to safeguard
something behind a lock, I’d use a physical item like this. That makes sense.
But what if I use the powers of my mind to manipulate the tumblers and unlock
the door without a key?”

“You can do that?”

She tossed the key back to him and laughed. “No, but I had
you believing it, didn’t I?”

“Great, of all the
lamians
for me to hook up with, I
get a jokester.”

His reference to their breed upset her.

“Why do you keep calling me a
lamian
as if I’m
different from you?” She had tried to overlook the hint of disgust in his tone
that often accompanied the word
lamian
.

“I don’t mean anything by it.”

“Don’t you? You said yourself when you were shot that we
weren’t very different, yet I feel as if I’m somehow inferior in your eyes.”